Musing of a verbose mind. It borders on all that takes a skeptical and highly critical view of whatever is happening or has happened in our world..... do read it and post your comments..... discourse is welcome.....

Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Dark Matter

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Posted on Monday, February 07, 2011 | By Gautam | In ,

I remember when all the games began / Remember every little lie and every last goodbye / Promises you broke, words you choked on / and I never walked away / it's still a mystery to me.

Well I'm so empty / I'm better off without you and you're better off without me / Well you're so unclean / I'm better off without you and you're better off without me.

The lying, the bleeding, the screaming / Was tearing me apart / The hatred (deceiving), the beatings; it's over.

Paint the mirrors lack to forget you / I still picture your face and the way you used to taste / Roses in a glass, dead and wilted / To you this all was nothing / Everything to you is nothing.

Well you're so filthy / I'm better off without you and you're better off without me / Well I'm so ugly / You're better off without me and I'm better off alone.

The lying, the bleeding, the screaming / Was tearing me apart / The hatred, the beatings (disaster); it's over.

As wicked as you are, you're beautiful to me / You're the darkest burning star, you're my perfect disease.

The lying, the bleeding, the screaming / Was tearing me apart / The hatred, the beatings; it's over.

Disaster

The lying, the bleeding, the screaming / Was tearing me apart / The hatred, the beatings; it's over.

Disaster

It's over now...

- The Bleeding, FFDP


A snap of fingers startled him from a state of suspension. The lyrics were making perfect sense to him. The walls of the cubicle started to come down on him. Everything’s imploding. The rage started to flow in his veins. He felt bitter. He tried to get up. Slump! A lil’ part inside him died.

Nothing much was left inside anyways save for a bitter heart and tar filled lungs. He tried to speak. Squeak! Meek was him. His laptop screen was staring dead into his eyes. He tried to make sense of the gibberish on the screen. The words seemed to come together to make an amoeba like figure. It’s color, dark. Darker than the heady cocktail of bitterness and tar in his lungs. He wanted the figure to spawn around him and suck him in. Killing the last breath of humanity in him he had saved for his coup. It would be a bloody coup. The figure moved. He wanted to be in unison with the dark matter. The matter seemed to writhe and twist changing its shape. It was doped. It made a crying sound, a pitch which would deafen mortals. He was barely alive. He wanted to be in unison with the dark matter. Spit! The dark matter just spat on him. The defeatist in him had won.

Snap! again. He tried to come to terms with his surroundings. The walls around him had collapsed. He couldn’t move himself. He was being crushed under his own weight. So this is how a black hole would feel like, he thought. Betrayed by the dark matter already, he now wanted to be crushed under this immense weight. But he felt no pain. In fact he wanted this to continue.

Pat! The last stick was successful in breaking his neck, again. He mumbled under his breath and turned his neck. His colleague was holding a telephone receiver. He felt as if he wanted to shove the receiver down his throat. He couldn’t hear anything. He knew the routine all too well. The receiver was cold. He liked the numbing comfort it provided. After a while, he returned the receiver to his colleague. Looking at his face made him feel disgusted. What a sorry excuse for life, he thought. It made him think about his life as well. But he is morally subjective. He wanted to retort. He wanted everyone to retort. No one did. And this fueled his bitterness. He wanted to smash the receiver on his face, spurting blood. He wanted to be drenched in his blood. Maybe that’ll wash away some of his sins. He was true to himself. He knew the defeatist in him wins every time. And that made him feel nauseated again.

Or maybe it was the smell of his office. Yes, it was the office. He hated the stench of conformity all around him. He hated it. But he hated himself more. The nausea was making its way to his throat. He looked at the cold and numbing telephone receiver. He wanted to shove it in his throat. Maybe it’ll stop the snot of defeat. He didn’t want to be defeated. He rushed to the washroom. He passed numerous cubicles. His hands felt numb. He punched himself in the throat. The snot that had built was pushed down, but only momentarily. And he knew it.

Each step of his was growing heavy. He felt cracks were developing on the spanking clean office floor. He hated it. He wanted the fissures to burst open and engulf him in the molten matter that was brewing beneath. It wasn’t red. It was dark. And it was cold. Dead cold. Yet it was boiling. The matter was following him everywhere. And he lunged into the washroom. The snot was now being flushed. He felt week.

He splashed water onto his face. The topology was gone. It was flat. He felt it was slippery and shiny like a manikin made of steel. He looked up into the mirror. But it was already painted black. He had already painted all mirrors black for the fear of not recognizing himself. He was no more human. He didn’t even look like a demon. He felt pathetic. The black paint on the mirror was slipping down. The dark matter was back again. He wanted to be at unison with it. He could now feel the stench of his office. He took a deep breath. The stale re-circulated air was cold. It smelled of dead dreams. He was hearing voices. Of dying men and dying dreams. The voices were too shrill for him to take. The rage inside him was making its way to the far ends of his limbs. He felt alive.

The black paint on the mirror was gone. It was lying plump on his feet. He looked up into the mirror. Yes, his was an expressionless face, shiny like cold steel. He looked down at the dark matter. Rage was throbbing against his veins. He nodded. He felt the dark matter making way up his feet. He felt good after a long long time. Rage had now taken over his senses. His brain was long gone. The dark matter had now taken over him. He was black. Pitch black. He sighed. Clasped his fists. And then he made a war cry. He felt glass shattering around him. Shards of glass were flying towards him. They stuck themselves in his flesh. But there was no blood. He took out his baseball bat he had hid years ago in this washroom for his coup. It felt good in his hands. He smirked.

The coup is here.

He emerged out of the washroom and made way to his cubicle. He struck the bat with the worst fury known to him on his colleague’s head. He felt a sweet cracking sound. This was the best stroke he had played in his life. He stood there looking at the motionless body. It was soaked in its own blood. The blood was not red. It was colorless. He felt good. He looked around. No one cared. Everyone was busy in their own cubicles staring into their monitors mindlessly punching away at their keyboards. Slaves. He thought. He looked at the bat and then at the room again.

The coup was here.

He felt overwhelmed as he went on a rampage indiscriminate between human life and machines. But were they alive anyways? No. He was simply freeing souls. It would have been hours. Or days. He barely remembers this now. But it is immaterial anyways. He went out of the building and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag. The smoke hit his lungs. He got his kick. There was an explosion. The building collapsed. He was caught in the aftershocks. But he stood his ground. It lasted for hours. And he kept on lighting a cigarette after another. He threw away the last butt. Blood was trickling out his flesh. And it was red and warm.

He stood there for a while and gulped down the red pill. Darkness spawned around him.

--
Sometimes your darker self is your true self. Darkness isn’t absence of light. Black isn’t lack of color. Light isn’t strong enough to overpower darkness. Colors, collectively, cannot overpower black.
--
For Sir James Alan Hetfield.

Polygamy? Will have!

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Posted on Thursday, January 20, 2011 | By Gautam | In , , , ,

Statutory warning: Stop judging. This post has more to do with polygamous thoughts than absolute polygamy.

Polygamy. It's a dirty word (I'll continue at the expense of being booed as a Mahesh Bhatt clone). Or so you believe because the social construct around you has programmed your thoughts in a certain way. Here I am, claiming polygamy, something deeply detrimental to the moral-social fabric, as the truth. It is an antithesis to the very institution of marriage which is more of a system to prevent family wealth to squander away. Or in some, err most parts of India, an instrument of amassing wealth. Yes, dowry. But that is not the bone of contention here. Man is a polygamous animal. Our 'thoughts' wander all so routinely. No? Maybe you're a reincarnation of some yogi or you need to see a doctor.

As much as we hate to accept it, polygamy creeps in our daily lives. Traveling in a bus, I can't but appreciate how a certain lady carries herself. Oh! I should've talked to that cute boy, a female's tweet proclaims on Twitter. A lil' bit of flirting is harmless, isn't it? And why or rather where do we gather the courage to indulge something as ungodly as that? We're alone. It is our zen of solitude. And our thoughts wander. To the unholy, unacceptable evil. Cocooned in our monotonous 9 to 5 lives, maybe we do look forward to that bus ride, that air travel or what have you. Platforms like Twitter have given masses a medium to vent out or confess, as the case may be. It lets you be anonymous yet true. And I see more and more rants, confessing. In our secret lives, we all want to be Barney Stinson or as the older generation would have said, Hugh Hefner.

How or why is beyond my comprehension. We just do. A rather pathetic example witnessed is of a certain moral broker of how certain birds like penguins stay true to only one partner for their entire life. Lest we should forget, we're talking about an animal, a brain which hasn't evolved. Most of the activities that animals indulge in are either out of their sheer instinct or they're wired in a certain manner. Have you ever witnessed any animal procreating beyond its mating season? No. Humans, on the other hand with their highly evolved brains and a false sense of morality mate all year long. And that is why you see so many of them around you eating away resources at will. The parallel drawn is flawed. The underlying logic beneath this example would put a Systems Theory professor to shame.

Pick up any lifestyle magazine, TOI or whatever you read, a self professed relationship guru will be doling out suggestions to save marriages / relationships. Most of them will suggest couples to indulge in role plays and pornography. Such voyeuristic pleasures. If it was for your monogamous behavior, traffic to pornographic sites would be minuscule instead of a Goliathesqque 80% of the total traffic. Avenues like Facebook has married / in a relationship partner stalking. If you need to imagine someone else while procreating, are you really monogamous? The fact that we accept it as counseling to save marriages is a step in making polygamous thoughts legal in our moral fabric. Men are openly polygamous. Ask any woman from Delhi about her plight to cover herself from lecherous looks and you'll be opening Pandora's box. This is not to suggest that women are absolutely monogamous. All these years of my existence have taught me otherwise.

Morality isn't absolute. It evolves with time. It is influenced by many factors. But most of it is rooted deeply in either Victorian era or is defined by the clergy or the moral police of that region. But morality is flexible. It is subjective. It varies from person to person. So should be the construct of monogamy.

Christopher Nolan's Joker indulged in a social experiment. And he did expose the frailties of a morally strong yet weak people. We indulge in such experiments daily. And we keep the results to ourselves only to look forward to another such result. As far as morality goes, I like to baptize with the following adage, "Make a stew out of your morality and have it".

20 reasons why Texting is better than making calls

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Posted on Thursday, October 07, 2010 | By Gautam | In ,

Here are 20 reasons why making calls suck. And messages are a better way of communicating.
  1. You live in Mumbai.
  2. The recipient lives in Mumbai.
  3. Your service provider is Airtel/ Vodafone/ MTNL/ Some-random-new-entrant.
  4. Your recipient's service provider is Airtel/ Vodafone/ MTNL/ Some-random-new-entrant.
  5. You're in a Local/ Bus/ Auto.
  6. The recipient is in a Local/ Bus/ Auto.
  7. Because you're in a public place, you don't want others to get a whiff of what is going on. Privacy FTW.
  8. The recipient is in a public place and does not want others to get a whiff of what is going on. Privacy FTW. (Personally, I feel this point sucks. We don't give a fuck about others privacy, do we?!!)
  9. You can sext. Yes, S-E-X-T. It's like phone sex. But you can read the conversations later and get a hard on. Plus, it can be done sitting in the middle of a corporate presentation (they suck donkey balls anyways), Local/ Bus/ Auto. Although you can have phone sex sitting in an auto, but that pervert of a driver will have fun. And charge you instead.
  10. He/ She can sext.
  11. You're talking to a Gujju girl, in which case your phone will be on mute but you can still hear her shrill, irritating voice. Soft spoken Gujju girl is an oxymoron.
  12. The recipient hates talking to a Gujju girl because of aforementioned reason.
  13. You could flaunt the touch interface of your latest iPhone or an Android phone while texting (No, I don't give a fuck if the recipient has an iPhone. God, please make his/ her iPhone crush under the merciless Local. Amen.).
  14. You could listen to a song while texting and cut out all the ambient noise.
  15. The recipient can listen to a song while texting and cut out all the ambient noise.
  16. You can text while you're getting laid. But that'll make you a sore loser. Get a life instead.
  17. The recipient can text while getting laid. And this makes him/ her a sore loser. FUCK YEAH!!!
  18. It IS easier to abuse a person in written text. And maybe he/ she will retain the message and feel humiliated. *imitating Jaquin Phoenix as Commodus* A-G-A-I-N and A-G-A-I-N and A-G-A-I-N.
  19. The recipient wants to humiliate you. Where did I keep my Colt?!!
  20. I LIKE TEXTING. Period.

Cause!!! What cause???

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Posted on Saturday, January 09, 2010 | By Gautam | In ,

Picture this: A person rushes to you to get your signature and email id on a petition. When you ask about the cause. They just shrug their shoulders and nonchalantly answer that its for PETA something and their 'cause' for doing it is because they'd been promised a t-shirt!!!

So much so for a cause.

I was privy to this scene at my ongoing college fest where PETA people have put up a booth and are promoting in their now well chronicled jingoistic rhetoric. The fact that I disagree with their ways is a different story and more on it sometime else. The point here is that the conscious of supposedly educated people is so darn cheap that it can be bought with a measly dirt cheap t-shirt!!! That PETA resorts to such gimmicks is a concern for me. The youth is happy when given badges, stickers and t-shirts is really hilarious considering the fact that we call ourselves 'concerned citizens'.

The signatories too will not be unscathed in my verbal assault. Non-vegetarians sign the petition without giving it a thought that killing animals for food is antithetical to the PETA philosophy and that this act of theirs is no more than a farce. The same criticism is associated with this set of citizens too. That being associated with a cause or for that matter an NGO is cool is a mockery of any movement. Most of the youth takes up such seemingly cool causes only to leave them mid way is a pattern I've observed and no amount of vociferous denying can turn the facts head on. This, not taking away from those who really feel for some matters and devote time and efforts should be respected though.

We live in an era of politically correct statements where a big number of grey haired men and women would like us to believe how we, the younger generation, are more into social causes than their generation was. The fact though is that the number of devoted people is really really small.

Fellow countrymen of yore, let us respect the spirit of social causes and movements and the people who are driving it. Unless we feel very strongly for them, lets refrain from joining them just for the reason of looking cool or peer pressure for that matter. Your just abiding laws and paying taxes on time does not make you a second rate citizen.

At-least don't sell your souls for a cheap t-shirt to look cool!!!!!

PS: This one's for my pup Milo who I'm missing too much :(

Beer equals happiness!!!

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Posted on Monday, December 28, 2009 | By Gautam | In ,

I know you guys would have seen it earlier too, but it somehow never fails to tickle my funny bone. As such its the festivities that are having the better out of us and this might just prove handy!!!







The RED Dot.....

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Posted on Tuesday, December 22, 2009 | By Gautam | In , , ,


Lets get some facts straight-
  • Gmail is the BEST email service. Ever.
  • Gtalk is the greatest invention since Windows 3.1.
  • Americans who feel that AOL is better than Gmail prove the 10=35 rule (read One night at call centre if you don't know what that means).

Now why do I write all these facts which everyone (even the Americans) already know? Well for one, I had an incessant itch to post a post for quite sometime now. For others, I suddenly realised how Gtalk has become a part of my life, the way I communicate and all. But the most peculiar thing that stands out is a behaviour pattern that has emerged out of using this chat client is the urge to stay on-line 24x7. Well almost. At least for us Indians.

The moment I get up, my lappy is fired up and I'm on-line. Depending upon my mood, it'll either be a red dot or a green one. But I need to be on-line. Its an urge. A craving. Even if I'm doing something important like watching a movie, I'm on-line. Lesser evils like attending classes do not discourage me from remaining on-line. What with wi-fi and all, being on-line 24x7 is my modus operandi. And this addiction is there for most of us. Even before Twitter became a vogue. Being away, sleeping, et all do not encourage me to get off-line. My lappy's still on-line. My friends who are in the US too suffer from the same problem. And this has become a way of life.

I suppose, and I know I'm not tangential from my hypothesis when I say this, but its something that all of us practice.

Most of the time red works but that does not mean you shouldn't ping me. Except for those days when red really really means I'm busy. But you have no way to find that out. HAH!!!

#FML Google.

PS: Google in no way has sponsored this post.

PPS: Google has not threatened me to make amends due to my earlier posts.

PPS: I would have loved if they'd sponsored this post!!!

PPPS: I'm not a communist and my fascination with the colour red does not construe anything.

Five Milds and a Verve.....

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Posted on Wednesday, December 09, 2009 | By Gautam | In ,

Freedom is over-rated.....

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Posted on Friday, December 04, 2009 | By Gautam | In , , , , ,


It’s easy to fight for freedom but it’s tough to retain it.

Readers beware. The following post is going to take some digs towards the concept of freedom as we've conceived it and are portraying it (at best). But portrayals seldom last a lifetime. They too are subjected to the lifecycle of an idea sprouting and dying a death. Natural or forced alike. Be warned.

Freedom is over rated.

There, I said it all. And before all of the freedom loving bandwagon jumps into the debate with their cohorts, read on. Just what is it about freedom that means to you the most? To have our fundamental rights in place? Guess what, its passé. When was the last time the state did not encroach upon your right in the name of national interest?! To pee or spit on the roads?! I’d not venture down that dirty road. But what is it about freedom that makes us jump up out of our slumber and start ranting all about it is a question to which I have no answers till date. It happens all too regularly when we encroach upon the rights of others crushing them under our inflated egos and the false sense of superiority. The meek take the hit. The poor take the hit. Every-damn-time. The right to freedom of speech/ expression are the most hit. Still we vow to live by our constitution and champion the cause of freedom. Farcical.

Let us take some leaves out of history and understand this phenomenon better. France championed the cause of freedom almost 300 years ago. It did a good job at overthrowing the despotic rule of Antoinette who had suggested them to have cakes when they couldn’t afford bread. This particular event in history inspired many a revolutions all around the world. But did it? Almost a couple of years back, Paris faced one of the worst riots in its suburbs, ghettoising them. The prodigal champion of instant democracy all over the world- the US is a classic example. Bombing sovereign countries because they have a hunch that the rouge country is hiding weapons of mass destruction seems to be their forte now. The Noble peace (?) prize declared, Obama decides to up the count of soldiers in Afghanistan by 50000. Some nobility there. The Russian revolution was to create a classless and just society. But we all know how Stalin killed his own countrymen in the name of upholding the honour and dignity of the fatherland. Did someone say China? Mao. His cultural revolution. The Tien Mann square massacre. The image of a boy braving a battle tank. Freedom??? ‘nuff said.

But the cited examples raise a quintessential question. Why is it so? Why did freedom fail when the intentions were good? Pious? As Edmund Burke has succinctly put- All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. And believe me you, history bares naked the impotency of good men. Men of honour reduced to mere spectators by their own indifference and ignorance. And indecision. Yes. Indecision is one of the foremost reason I recognize when talking about the failure of institutions. Take an example on a micro level. There in our classes we’ve have had vociferous kids who would seem to make all the decisions all the time. And we would be left cribbing. And it’s sort of a vicious cycle that continues. But why is it so, is the food for thought here. Our indecision. Whenever we have a public with diverse interest and wants, fighting about what needs to be done, not for one moment stopping to find a common minimum interest, a figure rises and towers all the confusion bringing stability. And stability is what we long for. An equilibrium is what makes the masses happy. Period.

The best example to support the logic would be the rise of Adolf Hitler himself. In a county with a bruised ego and divided thought process with an incredible amount of indecision and political instability, he brought some sort of orderliness. And when people started to blindly follow him, reposing in him their faith and support, an unprecedented genocide begun.

So as we all can see, freedom is short lived. Humans somehow cannot take cognisance of that the fact their inability will lead to their downfall. One way or the other. Chaos is eternal. And so will all those with dictatorial tendencies lurking in their heads.

Equilibrium will be attained. But at the cost of freedom.

Gentlemen, the melancholy event of yesterday reads to us an awful lesson against being too much troubled about any of the objects of ordinary ambition. The worthy gentleman, who has been snatched from us at the moment of the election, and in the middle of contest, whilst his desires were as warm, and his hopes as eager as ours, has feelingly told us, what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue~ Edmund Burke

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.....

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Posted on Saturday, November 21, 2009 | By Gautam | In , ,


Tum nahi samjhogi Anjali, kuch kuch hota hai!!!

The said lines made an entire movie hall gasp into a helpless 'awww' and a few seconds later, applauds erupted out of nowhere. As someone ready to step into the teens, I watched the movie with excitement. Each scene presenting an extravaganza of emotions which though sublime made girls coo for SRK (Damn it! He scores every-time.). The grandeur of sartorial excesses (casuals only) made kids and teens alike crave for a certain Polo t-shirt brand. Yes, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a case study in itself. The film is an institution. Its landmark cinema at its best. And not because any of the actors were able to pull a la Al Pachino. Even the director did something which in common parlance is attributed as a formula-film. No, Karan Johar did not pull off a signature Subhash Ghai. The story was a run off the mill love triangle (and the vox-populi dictated that Aman played by Salman-the-shirtless-khan as the one making the sacrifice. Touchy.). Screenplay, narration, cinematography- sufficient. So what makes this film an institution???

Aspirations. Yes, the aspirations of a middle class, waking up from a slumber of a don't-know-how-many-years. The film made a strong comment on the sartorial senses of how we'd wanted to dress all along. It gave us a sense of style. The C-O-O-L necklace went on to become a best seller within days. Friendship bands became a rage. The glares sported by SRK were nice. Skateboards. And the college life portrayed by Rahul and Anjali was simply awesome. Everyone now wanted to play basketball. Heck, I wanted my school to finish asap so that I could attend college which was..... cool!!! Yeah, and how can I not mention summer camp. Every demanding kid worth his/her salt wanted to go to a summer camp. Gah.

So how does all this make sense?? Well for one, the timing of the movie couldn't have been better. It had been 7 odd years since our markets had opened. We had finally started to appreciate the idea of a free market. Everything phoren was cool. It was a marketing blitzkrieg when KKHH released. I remember getting a box of Kellogs Chocos just because they gave away the music cassette of KKHH. And parents were shelling money on their kids (spoiling them :P) because their disposable income had risen. Sure Yashraj Films had already started with all such things, but KKHH proved to be the last straw to break the camel's neck!!! KKHH proved to be a tipping point of all sorts. And kudos to Karan Johar for that.

Here's to one of the greatest movies in Indian cinema in the words of Barney Stinson- It's Legendary!!!

If it wasn't for Pamela.....

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Posted on Wednesday, November 04, 2009 | By Gautam | In ,

The Internet recently celebrated its 40th birthday. From being a niche research baby of the American Department of Defense and all those men who roamed about in a lab in white coats, the Internet has come a long way where the Google homepage has become a shrine, a page which is visited by the masses religiously. If Internet was a religion, Google would be its god, undoubtedly. I, for one, cannot imagine my life without a net connection (a high speed one for that matter). But a 40 year old spider's cobweb also brings with itself a whole lot of nostalgia. Some sweet memories of using the Internet in the cyber cafes still linger in my otherwise volatile memory.

Like millions of other kids, I too grew up in the post liberalization era. Cable TV was (and still is) a staple diet. Everything American was cool!!! And with all those movies playing out on Star Movies, the one's which showed that two computers could connect and communicate were watched with gaping sighs. And then it happened. Internet was ushered in my city in late 1998 in the form of those (in)famous cyber cafes which, time and again have been blamed for corrupting the minds of the impressionable youth (as if we ourselves don't want to get corrupted!!!). 

But back then, the Internet was the cool thing. It was obscenely expensive. Surfing rates were as high as 100 bucks/hour. Surfing speeds, if one was lucky enough, during peak hours would peak out at 10 odd kbps!!! Some speed there compared to todays easily accessible 1 Mbps networks. And since we'd have limited financial resources at our disposal, it usually required 4 people to pool in money to enjoy an hour's worth of drive on the information highway!!! 

But the major credit of attracting men towards the Internet was Pamela Anderson!!! Being the sex starved nation that we are, people would flock to the cafes to get a good look at her incredible anatomy. So you see, the Indian government should confer upon her some award for hooking an entire nation to a phenomenon. If Internet had a brand ambassador, Miss Anderson would be it. And its not as if this is true only for India. No sir. Its true for most of the world. The Internet's traffic, 80% of the precious bandwidth is still hogged by adult content (now don't expect me to put a link for that!!!). Also all those unknown hackers who have wrecked havoc should thank Miss Anderson as they would embed their malicious codes in her photographs and some unsuspecting lecherous prick would download it, just to find that their system is fucked!!! 

Only later did we realize that apart from all this, we could actually use the Internet for some good use. Like ripping off material from the net to make reports. MBAs would be doomed had there been no net. My acknowledgements read till date- I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude towards Larry Page and Sergei Bin without whom this report wouldn't have materialized. 


Here's for Pamela Anderson..... the Internet owes you much.   

PS: I hope I satisfied some souls there!!!

Sufferings in the words of Dylan.....

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Posted on Friday, October 30, 2009 | By Gautam | In , , , , ,

War is old men talking and young man dying.....

The last few days have been particularly bloody for the American soldiers in the Middle East recording the highest number of casualties. Feels bad for the poor souls who are carrying out the wishes of their political masters in the name of patriotism. Here's to the spirit of freedom penned by the great Dylan himself.....

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just don't want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
While the death count gets higher
Then you hide in your mansion
While the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead



At the same time feel for all those unlucky one's who had been born in such tumultuous times on minefields, literally..... Dylan again.....

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Pulp fiction.....

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Posted on Tuesday, October 13, 2009 | By Gautam | In , , ,

One of the best movies which mirrors the society more than adequately...... as is always the case with Tarentino, the characters of the movie are greatly etched and keep coming back..... great background score and awesome screenplay..... one of my favorite-est lines of the movie, worded by the Jules himself

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the
selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity
and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For he is
truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children."

And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

My idea of a perfect weekday.....

2

Posted on Wednesday, October 07, 2009 | By Gautam | In , ,



The cell phone alarm rings for the nth time and with blatant stubbornness, I press the snooze button for the nth time (its kinda love and hate relationship that we have). But this time when it rings, 'my' alarm bells start ringing 'coz its 11:30 am and I have a presentation at 1200hrs. Whoa!!! I jump off the bed (and in the process ape Ethan Hunt!!!) and barely make it to the class. Barely.


I'm sure the above scene is not too alien for our imagination 'coz most of us are lazy asses. Still, here's my list of acts, which, if they fall into place, make for a perfect weekday. So here goes nothing:


  • It starts with one of my friends shouting and making all the noises in this world to wake me up. Or this pious act is sometimes done by my cell.

  • At least two large cups of tea (just writing 'bout it makes me crave for it!!!) for breakfast. I don't care if I don't have anything to eat, but no compromises on my daily dose of caffeine.

  • Now all this exercise will be futile without me smoking. I need my share of nicotine, man!!! And stop judging me, I'm not a rapist!!!

  • Some nondescript events here and there (like attending classes and all) and its lunch.

  • Lunch should be heavy. Heavier the better. Being the Bong that I am, I live to eat.....

  • An afternoon nap is inevitable (provided fate has not scheduled a class or two).

  • Its evening and my caffeine+nicotine craving is back. But this time, its not the mess. A tapri (roadside tea stall) is the single-point-of-meeting for all the lazy asses. Just for the records, all you high nosed people who have tea in the typical Victorian fashion, its NO good (#fail I say).

  • And before we even realize, its dinner time. Time for the pigs to feast on the grub, once again.

  • Night is for everything (yeah yeah that too, you dirty mind) but studies. Invariably it would be a movie(s) or seasons of some sitcom (its the fifth rerun of Friends for me!!!). If movies fail to do the trick, we sneak out of our hostel for the graveyard shift of tea and maggi :)

  • Now what? Sleep.

That's pretty much what a typical day of mine pans out like. Yes we would have submissions, evaluations, exams et all, but the happen. They just happen. If it was not for the 11th hour, we would have never finished the job on our hands.....

Binary.....

2

Posted on Thursday, October 01, 2009 | By Gautam | In ,

Unity can only be manifested by the Binary. Unity itself and the idea of Unity are already two- Buddha


Zeroes and ones, on and off, right or wrong, black or white, yes and no..... what is the lowest common denominator amongst these seemingly disperse phrases? It's binary. Dealing with only two options at a time. Various constraints, factors, forces et all zeroed down to two options. How easy it is for our cognizence to play with two variables at a time. Heck, the same is true even for machines. Look at all those processors churning out data at teraflop speeds whose efficiency we've come to appreciate. Why are they so efficient? Because they have to deal only with a '0' and a '1'. Eliminating and filtering all those 'choices' we are so fond of choosing from leaves only the dust of confusion clouding everything around us. Boolean would have been a better choice.

Life is not only about black and white, it's also about shades of grey. Or so we are made to believe. How good was the time when we had heroes saving the world and those villians out on the street to destroy everything. But no, we want complications to fill our lives. Now we have a thin line between the two. Grey. Two is not good. Throw out the binary out of the window. 'Bring multiple in and enjoy the chaos' seems to our mantra. Or how else would you explain our gratitude towards the notion of 'spoilt for choices'?!! Anyways, instead of treading through our choices carefully, we make decisions in haste. Wouldn't it be better had we to choose from only a couple of options?!!

Choosing that new bike, deciding which restraunt to freak out during the weekend, what to wear and the list goes on, we want our options!!! Narrowing down to binary choices simply wouldn't do. So why this utter complications and chaos in our lives when we can simplify it? Are we wired genetically in such a manner that we simply cannot keep complexities out of our lives or do we derive some sort of a kick out of it? Answers to these profound questions is something which I don't posesses as of now (because I'm more than happy with my little binary world!).

There are 10 kinds of people in the world, those that understand binary and those that don't.
FYI: 10 is 2 in binary.
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